


470. Once you go great (you never go good)

by SevlinRipley



Series: This is No-Terror Ground [10]
Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Apologies, Canon Jewish Character, Canon-Typical Sexual Language, Emotions, Established Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mortality, Sensuality, Shared Grave, planning the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: In a subtle act of retaliation, Richie decides to hang out with Stan for a while, deviating from his usual routine of going straight to Eddie's house. (And Richie comes home to find a distraught Eddie has been waiting for his return.)• Wednesday; August 25, 1993





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from: "Change Your Life" by Iggy Azalea ft. T.I.

"Whoa," Stan said, when he pulled open his front door to see Richie standing there, thumbs tucked in the straps of his backpack near his waist. "You and Eddie didn't already break up did you?"

Nose scrunching, eyes narrowing, Richie said, " _No_ ," tone of disgust at the very thought. Never mind that in a way... it kind of felt like they had, _and_ that that was the exact reason Richie was here. (Maybe Bill couldn't be petty, but Richie sure could. If Eddie needed time to process, well there ya go Eds, a whole day just to yourself.)

Stan moved out of the way as Richie side-stepped his way into the house, and kicked his sandals off near the shelving unit Stanley's mother had purchased recently, as a drop-off point. To avoid dirt and leaves tracking into the house. Sighing, low, under his breath, Stan quickly moved to pick them up and slot them into an empty space on the shelf. "Don't sound so offended. I'm just surprised to see you. Alone. You've been spending a lot of time together."

"Yeah, well," Richie said, swallowing. "I'm guessing you have time to hang out, since you're stowing my luggage," Richie said, referring to his shoes.

"Guess so," Stan said, already leading Richie downstairs, into the basement theater room. "Street Fighter?" he asked, as he grabbed the remote off the arm of the couch, lights already flicked on, and brought the t.v. to life. Although his parents found the idea more than a little off-putting, they had agreed that if he got all A's last year, he could spend some of his Bar Mitzvah money on something _he_ wanted. Which turned out to be a gaming console.

Shedding his backpack, Richie moved around the coffee table to fall back into the far couch cushion, one socked foot stretching out over the the middle cushion. Stanley rolled his eyes when he saw how much space Richie was taking up, after he turned from flipping the switch on the console, and had begun untangling the controller cords. "Make yourself at home," he said, handing one controller over, before sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Thanks, man, I will," Richie said, cheeky smile on his face.

"Seriously though, what's wrong with you and Eddie?" Stan asked, landing a round-house kick to Richie's virtual face.

"Nothing," Richie said, quickly, his actual body moving to the side in an effort to dodge the blow. He sighed, frustrated. "What's wrong with you and Mike?"

Face going tight, Stan glanced at Richie from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why're you guys still beating around the bush? Or - is it that you guys are beating _off_ **in** the bush? Cause if a secret relationship is what gets you going, I won't judge." Pot calling the kettle black. Sort of.

As much as Richie (gently) tried to emphasize the idea of Eddie letting the other losers in on his double(-ish) life, that they'd be just as supportive as he was, Richie was _actually_ very happy to have a part of Eddie all to himself. Well, _when_ he had it.

Fuck.

Stan's face was stony as he turned to look at Richie, hitting pause on his controller without warning. Richie spent another ten seconds key-mashing before he realized nothing was happening. "We're not - I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh my god, Stanley. Who do you think you're talking to?" Everyone already knew they liked each other. Which was why the hypocrisy from Mike on the day Eddie and Richie told everyone they were together, was so _fucking_ hilarious and _sad_ \- that Richie couldn't even begin to know how to call him out on it.

"A dumb ass, for one. I could go on..."

Richie shook his head. Then slumped back into the back of the couch, dropping his controller to his lap. Damn Stanley for being Player One. "You know, you guys _really_ don't have an excuse not to get together now that Eddie and I have 'paved the way'. No one fucking cares if you guys wanna pop each other's cherries. Literally, no one."

"My dad's a Conservative-Republican rabbi."

Casting his eyes off to the side, Richie drew in a long breath through his nose. "I meant... No one in the Losers Club." Anyone who actually _mattered_ , that was. "But yeah - I'm sorry your dad's an asshole. Also, can I point out that _that's_ your argument? Rather than maintaining that you _don't_ wanna stick it to Mike."

"Beep beep, Richie," Stan said, drawn out and gruff, turning his focus back to the t.v.

The fucker even pressed play before giving Richie time to pick his controller back up, and before Richie knew it, it was Game Over. Stan had won. Of course. Home field advantage, Richie would argue, if Stan ever tried to rub it in his face. (He never did.)

"Look," Richie started, drawing his foot back to the floor, and leaning forward, "I just - Want you guys to be happy. If you want me to go back to pretending like you guys aren't constantly flirting with each other, fine. But I just wanted you to know that it's _okay_. And I think you might make Mike's life if you actually let him hold your fucking hand."

Stanley was silent for a long minute, eyes glazed over in thought. Then he sighed, and said, "Eddie's kind of a good influence on you. Better be careful there, Rich."

"Tell me about it..."

"You're really not gonna tell me why you're solo, today?"

Richie shook his head, as if shaking off a fly. "Jesus, do you hear that buzzing, Stan? So fucking annoying - I can't seem to get - rid of it..." He was swatting at the air to further demonstrate his point.

Shoulders falling, Stanley relaxed into the couch, then. Putting a hand up in place of a white flag. "Yeah. _I'm_ the relentless, disgusting insect, of the two of us."

"Glad to finally hear you admit that, Stanley. Now, for my birthday, can I get you to put it in recording? Some day when I'm a radio DJ I'd like to make a re-mix..."

"Ugh. Remind me why I let you in earlier."

"Cause you love me. _Obviously_."

Stan didn't object. Mostly because resistance was futile, with Richie, but also because it was true. "Gonna stay for dinner?" he asked, eyes glancing up the stairway. He knew sitting around a table with his stuck-up, stick-in-the-mud parents was hardly an appealing proposition. But if Richie needed an excuse to be away from something (or someone) then he might as well spend his night diligently trying to break through his mother's Stepford smile. It was the one thing Richie was really good for, after all.

Richie smiled at him. A real smile, actually, before it slowly morphed into a smirk. "Apology accepted, Stanny. I'm in!" If the Uris family had supper in the evening like _normal_ people, he would have had to turn the invitation down. With the table set at 4pm, however? He wouldn't be late for his job.

Pursing his lips, Stanley shook his head in short, jerky movements. "Not an apology. You were - a thousand times more invasive than I was."

"Whatever. Your mom makes the best green beans, so I'm still in."

"Alright. You can stay, but only if you help me wash the dishes after."

"Shit, I do that at work all the time, and I get _paid_ for it."

"Yeah, and you'll be getting _paid_ in food. What's the difference?"

" _Fine_. But only because I love you, too."

Stan's mouth budged up, a little smile that was difficult to hold back, at that. "Yeah, I know. Another round?"

" _Yeah_ ," Richie sighed, put upon. "Kick my ass, Bird Man."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That kid you're always with called. Like three times." His sister was at the counter flipping through a magazine and popping her gum, as Richie made his way through the kitchen, grabbing a Coke on his way up to his room. She tilted her head toward the off-yellow wall-hanging phone without even looking up.

"That kid you're always with called. Like three times." His sister was at the counter flipping through a magazine and popping her gum, as Richie made his way through the kitchen, grabbing a Coke on his way up to his room. She tilted her head toward the off-yellow wall-hanging phone without even looking up.

"Oh, thanks," Richie said, after pulling in some air, a hitch in his lungs as he froze. It was way too late to call Eddie back. He knew it, but still stared at the phone like he might be able to change that fact if he promised it he'd be a better person. With his eyes. He glanced at the clock just in case. Nope, still 1am... "What're you doing here, anyway? Run out of clean clothes already, or did your roommate kick you out so she could practice domming some frat boy?"

"Something like that," she answered, around her bubblegum.

Richie shrugged. "You should've stayed to watch."

"Pfft, _yeah_ right. He sounds like a cat..."

Richie smiled at that, a little chuckle bubbling up from his chest. "Not into the animal stuff?" he asked.

His sister rolled her eyes, but he could see her answering smirk even with her face angled down. "So you like... boning down with that kid, or what?"

Swallowing, Richie cast his eyes away, finger playing with the tab on his can of soda. He tapped it, nerves coming out. "Only on Wednesdays. Why?"

Jaw working, over-exaggerated, her eyebrows arched and she said, "He seemed kind of fucked up about something. Who would call _you_ for help, unless they use you as some kind of penis pocket?"

Huffing out a borderline-indignant breath, Richie smiled sharply. "And if it'd been a girl who called?"

"Don't act like you don't know what a fucking strap-on is, Rich... I've seen your dirty mags."

Half a smile on his face, one cheek budged up slightly, Richie finally popped the can open. He started walking toward the stairs, was gonna call out a quip over his shoulder, but as he fell in line with where she was sitting, he stopped short. He swallowed down a lump again, looked at her seriously. "Was he mad?"

She looked up from her magazine, narrowing her eyes. Evaluating how much he actually cared about the answer, the tone of his voice, his body language. Then said, "No. The first time he sounded anxious, but hopeful. The second time he sounded desperate. The third time he sounded like he'd killed someone, but felt really bad about it."

"And you know what that sounds like because...?" Richie asked, trying to smile even though it physically hurt him to do so. His sister just shoved him by the shoulder.

"You're joking, but I haven't told you about the fourth time I talked to him, yet."

Brow furrowing, Richie's mouth turned to a thin line, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "What?" he asked, dry.

Turning slightly on the bar stool, she pointed up the stairs. "He's been here for like, five hours. Brought a pillow with him and a pack. So if you're not ready to face whatever the fuck, I'm just letting you know. And by the way? I don't know if he's eaten. He looked pretty strung out. Hasn't been down since I let him in." Eddie must've parked his bike up at the far side of the house, out of sight from thieves. That, or Richie was more exhausted than he'd given himself credit for. Because this was completely new information to him.

" _Shit_ ," he said, slamming his Coke down on the counter, narrowly grazing her magazine with an explosion of pop. He immediately went to the sink to wash his hands, then to the fridge, scanning it for anything that looked edible. A half-bag of baby carrots, bread that wasn't moldy, the last finger's worth of mayo, and two thin slices of ham and cheese to make a sandwich. He quickly began assembling it on top of a plastic, knife-scored plate of dark blue. Poured the carrots out at its side, and then took a Sprite out and poured it into a cup.

As he passed by his sister again, plate in one hand, cup in the other, and his Coke smashed between his bicep and chest, he heard her snort. "Wow, looks like more than banging to me..."

Richie didn't even respond. Just walked right up to his room, and fondled with the door knob until he'd made enough noise Eddie came to pull the door open for him.

He very, very nearly dropped everything he'd just brought up for Eddie, in order to hug the pitiful-looking soul who stood before him. " _Baby_ ," he whispered, soft. Heart aching uncontrollably. Like everything he'd repressed the whole day decided to pinch at it all at once. Eddie looked like he wanted to cry, like maybe he already had a little, dark circles under his eyes. Hair mussed.

Moving passed him, he set everything down on his desk, avoiding spilling. Turned to find Eddie'd trailed right after him. And instantly pulled Eddie into a hug. Arms tight over Eddie's shoulders, Eddie's nose buried at his collar bones, and Eddie's arms, strong as an anaconda, at Richie's back. "You fucking hate me," Eddie half-cried into Richie's chest, voice all jagged, holding back. Trying not to be emotional.

"What?" Richie asked, the word falling from his mouth like blood from a weeping wound. His heart dropping out of his chest as he squeezed his cheek to the top of Eddie's head and held him even closer. "Shut the fuck up; I do not."

Eddie's eyes were closed so tight that if he'd opened them, he would've seen stars. He felt like such an idiot, clinging to Richie this way, saying what he had. But it was all he could keep thinking, more and more, every time he called and Richie still wasn't home. And yeah, eventually he'd known that Richie would be at work. That didn't change the fact that Richie'd left without telling Eddie, gone somewhere without inviting him, or even just explaining why he wasn't coming over that day. Even if he deserved it, it still fucking sucked. Stung. And he was probably over-reacting; Richie was allowed to live his own life. Do whatever he wanted. It just - they'd developed some kind of routine, talked at least once every day. Usually more. And he knew he'd hurt Richie. Maybe didn't realize how much at the time he was doing it... Now - "I'm _sorry_ , Rich."

 _Fuck_. Fuckfuckfuck.

"I was at Stan's," Richie said. Then looked completely gob-smacked that _that_ was what he'd managed to say.

As if explaining to Eddie that he should've just called Stan's house and he would've been able to avoid this whole thing. Like Richie didn't know exactly what he was doing... True, if Eddie'd called and asked for him, he would've picked up, given a faux-warm response like, 'Hey Eds, just playin' some video games with Stan the Man today. What's up?' All cold nonchalance and poignant avoidance. Yeah, _Eddie_ , why didn't you just call Stan's house so I could stab at you that way, rather than with silence and the complete absence of communication?

Eddie grew more stiff in his arms, then. Eyes opening some, against the too-bright light of the ceiling lamp. Numbly, he said, "I didn't mean to call so many times. And then I started to think that if your sister told you, you might come over. How selfish it'd be to make you come over after work." Again. "So I thought - but I should've just. Sorry. I should've just let it go." Like he'd been planning to, after his first call. He'd told himself to go find something better to do with his time.

Had called Bill, but Bill hadn't been home. And then promptly threw out any idea of remaining cool and logical, a fit of unease caused by yet _another_ person not being where he'd expected them to be. Like it was somehow unusual that Bill was out busying himself around town or hanging out with Bev on some tire swing somewhere.

"Eddie. _Stop_. I fucked up. _I_ fucked up," Richie said, grabbing Eddie by the shoulders, and pushing him out enough to capture his eyes. Stinging red, as they were.

The tendons in Eddie's neck were visible like rubber bands beneath his tan skin. His eyes were dark and - the only word Richie could think of to describe the look in his eyes was - lonely. Deserted. Eddie sucked in a little breath, lip just barely trembling before he managed to say, eyes focused off somewhere else, "No. It was my fault. I knew that last night - the other night was going to hurt you. But I-"

"It doesn't matter. It shouldn't have mattered. That's not _about_ me. It's about you, and I'm a fucking asshole, okay?" Richie said, interrupting. Eddie didn't really have anything to apologize for and Richie'd known that. Technically. And clearly he'd gotten his point across, that it fucking _pained_ him to not... For that part of their relationship to be absent from his life. But Richie'd never done anything so selfish in his life, than what he did technically-yesterday. "I mean, yeah, you clearly don't... didn't - whatever - understand how much..." Richie stopped, stomach churning as he tried to remain honest with both Eddie and himself, but still be apologetic. Somehow?

He'd _wanted_ Eddie to feel this way. To miss him, and feel like something important had been taken from him. Wanted him, deeply, to understand what it meant to Richie, that he wouldn't get to _be with_ , speak to, or even _see_ the little boy he'd fallen so absolutely in love with. Wanted Eddie to be sorry. To take it back.

But he hadn't thought it through _at all_ , obviously, because now he was responsible for hurting Eddie. Fucking _hell_ , him. _He_ had hurt Eddie, of all people!

"Eds..." Richie said softly, hands curling to the underneath of Eddie's arms, swooping back into hug him, back a hump so that he could put his chin on Eddie's shoulder, hold him tight around the middle. "Please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I don't fuckin' deserve you."

Eddie tucked his mouth into Richie's shoulder, eyes falling closed, hugging Richie over his shoulders, and pushing the back of his head into the side of Richie's. Chest loosening, and his heart rate calming. Muffled, and tasting oil against the fibers of Richie's work clothes, he said, "No. I know - I would've probably done the same thing. Maybe. I. I don't _want_ to take that from you. I'm just ...scared."

"I know," Richie said, tone heavy and low. He turned his head, and pressed a kiss to the skin behind Eddie's ear, over his hair. "I was scared, too. You have no fucking... I mean you - do," Richie said, laughing nervously. Eddie had an idea, from his own side. It was just different from what Richie went through. Different but the same. "I was losing my mind, like I think worse than ever before."

"Yeah," Eddie said, sighing a hot breath into the cotton of Richie's shirt, holding him closer, eyes closing tighter before he shifted to lay his cheek on Richie's shoulder. "I wanna be with you all the time, Rich. And I... _can't_."

Richie felt himself choking on tears. Fucking tears, and he was seventeen-years-old, and Jesus Christ, it was practically gagging him. He tried to swallow it down, but still his words came out garbled, "Me too, Eds. And, not that I want to admit it, but you were right. Probably. I mean, at least to see if we can find some kind of... balance. But, you know. Little or not, I can't fuckin'. I know I'm a god damn parasite for it, but I really just _hate_ not being with you."

Eddie breathed out, relieved to hear it still. The idea that Richie was mad at him, pushing himself away... had been eating at him for so many hours even though something somewhere kept screaming at him that it wasn't true. He still hadn't quite managed not to believe it.

"Is there such thing as two parasites living off of each other?" Eddie asked quietly, rising slightly onto his toes, so that Richie didn't have to end up breaking his back anymore than he probably already had while at work.

"Instead of something purely parasitic, we could aim for something more symbiotic," Richie suggested.

"Is that better?"

Richie shrugged, lifting Eddie's head with his shoulder, "Maybe. But either way... I think you still need to take your break from being ... little. And then we can try again when we have a better handle on even just missing each other. Like now."

"I don't want to _stop_ missing you, though. I just don't want it to terrify me when you're gone."

Swallowing thickly, Richie loosened his hold, and pulled his face back to look Eddie in the eyes, "No. You're right... We just have to pull it back a little. Maybe some better time management? Something like a red-light, green-light system? Before I leave. And. I wanna get some god damn walkie-talkies so I don't have to refrain from calling late just cause I don't want your mom to get jealous I'm with _you_ now."

Eddie rolled his eyes, small smile quirking at his lips. "Beep beep," he said, half-heartedly, taking Richie's hands in his. "How was work?"

"Who the fuck cares. I made you a sandwich and brought you a drink. And if anyone ever tells me again that they think you haven't fuckin' eaten, we're seriously going to have some words. I don't even care if they're wrong."

"I had breakfast and lunch," Eddie said, edging on suggesting Richie was being over-dramatic.

"Uh, okay. I think there's three meals a day? So... eat." Richie pulled Eddie by the hands as he moved to the side, showing Eddie to the desk. "I gotta take a shower, so while you eat -"

"Can," Eddie started. Something catching in his throat, as he picked up his messily-made sandwich. "Can you wait for me?"

Richie felt a tinge of heat in his cheeks, stopped tugging his shirt out of his pants. And quirked a brow as he slowly turned to look back at Eddie. "Y-You wanna take a shower with me?"

Eddie's own blush caught up with him, hearing it put into words. Almost like an invitation. He forced himself to take a bite while he tried to restrain his mind, lock it down. Over a half-chewed bite he shrugged, faking cool. "If. It wouldn't be too crowded, or something."

"Well, I can fuckin' make room for _you_. Shit, Eds..."

Pursing his lips together, Eddie tried to hide his smile. He pulled the chair out from the desk, and sat, focusing intently on the odd shapes of the baby carrots, and intermittently thumbing at the frost outside of his glass. Eventually he found more words, and felt more at ease when Richie slumped to sit on the edge of his bed that was closest to the chair. He smiled, helpless to it, even more, when Richie leaned forward, an arm braced along the back of the chair, close enough now that Richie's nose could touch his hair. "Not for like, you know."

Richie smirked, audibly, as he asked, "Anything untoward?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughed, taking another sound bite of his sandwich. His stomach was untwisting, and he finally felt like he wasn't so full of too-much, and empty of anything-real. Eddie bit into his lip, once he'd swallowed, and turned his head back, brushing noses with Richie, before tipping back enough to press their mouths together. Richie immediately moved forward, pressing in, and if not for already having braced himself on the chair, he would've slipped straight off the bed in his eagerness. Mouths clashing somewhat clumsily as he caught himself, and pushed back toward the bed with his feet. Ending their kiss, as Eddie's face screwed up, judgmental. "Nerd."

"Love you," Richie said, smiling brightly. Just so happy to see Eddie looking... warm again.

Eddie's chest clenched, sweet and sudden. A rush of affection washing over him. His head shook minutely, only at the thought of ever having made Richie so sad in the first place that... he ever even questioned whether or not that was still true. "Love you, too. Now let me eat so we can -"

" _Can_?" Richie asked, a prompt, tone innuendo in and of itself, even though he knew damn well nothing was going to happen.

"Shut up, Richie."

Richie leaned forward, giving Eddie another quick peck before he decided to lay back on his bed, stretch his muscles out and let the ache from work and the stress of what he'd done that day, ease out from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not actually having them in the shower in this chapter... I intended to write that part, but I've got a headache. So I hope to update with that in the future ♥
> 
> ALSOOO! I've officially surpassed the word count of any prior project of mine, by about two thousand words, and I'm so excited! Thank you so so kindly to all of you who have supported this story, leaving comments and kudos, bothering to bookmark or subscribe. It means the world to me that others enjoy this premise. *hugs all of you*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE, **please** make sure you've read [Chapter 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912935/chapters/32295909) (and 3) of _[Shedding black and grey to take on red and blue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912935)_ , BEFORE reading this update. ♥ There are spoilers ahead!

Eddie'd just wanted to be near..., but reality was biting back every time his teeth cracked through the middle of one of his carrots, or through the sandwich Richie had forced on him. He just kept running the scenario over in his mind, and fuck if he hadn't gotten himself into quite the pickle. Yeah, sure, nothing sexual about being naked and wet and touching each other. Soapy and clean. And fucking _Richie_. He'd only jerked off to the image about a thousand times before. He took a drink of his Sprite, fizz bubbling down his throat, as he gulped it down. "Rich," he said quietly.

"Hm?" Richie sounded far-off, or maybe just tired. Eddie kind of felt dumb for interrupting him, even if he was finishing up his dinner, and they'd be... moving on soon, anyway.

"Just, if we... you know, get." God what the fuck, he couldn't believe he was about to say this out loud. "Turned on or whatever -"

" _If_?" Richie barked out a laugh, sitting up on his elbows. "Eds, I'm already half-way there. There's no 'if' about this."

Eddie groaned, forehead falling to his arms on the desk as the swept the half-empty plate back. " _Richie_. This is gonna be impossible. What was I even thinking?"

Still chuckling, Richie pushed himself up even more, and said, "Fine. Ground rule #1, if we get hard - which, I know I will - we just ignore it. Ground rule #2, no touching below the belly button. Cause honestly, speaking for myself, that kind of temptation is not to be trusted. And neither am I."

Mentally rolling his eyes, Eddie lifted his head, back still hunched, then turned to look at Richie seriously, "Yeah, and then what?" His eyes were so sincerely concerned that Richie's heart fucking melted. "We're just gonna come back here, lay down on your bed and _not_ touch each other then, too? Even though we're both gonna be going crazy?"

He couldn't help but smile at that. Eddie admitting, more or less, that it was an inevitability for him to have the same reaction as Richie. Mouth nerves almost tickling with delight at the very thought of it, heat pooling lower in his tummy, again. Eddie had a point. Jesus Christ, did he ever... Richie adjusted his glasses, ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the front back, only to have it fall right back into place along the top rim of his frames. "Well, how about I get out of the shower five minutes before you, and you give me those five minutes in here, when we're done? Then you can come back in here, and we'll get dressed and get under the covers, and you'll wonder when you started dating an octopus, I'm gonna snuggle you so much."

Eddie blushed hard (not just because of the bulk of the suggestion, but also due to the fact Richie wanted to 'snuggle' him.) Get off in Richie's shower? His head could've gone dizzy from the thought of it, right then. His eyebrows rose slightly as he considered the math. Five minutes? Eddie didn't even know if, at this point, it would take a fraction of that. But... "That's not. Why I wanted to shower with you though. I just want." Eddie could feel his shoulders tensing up. The idea of being literally a room away from Richie for _five_ ( _more_ ) minutes should _not_ have been such a hang-up for him. How he thought he was ever going to combat this _feeling_ , he didn't know.

Richie leaned forward again, smoothing Eddie's hair back toward him, with a large open palm. "Want what, baby?"

He could've cried out how soft and sincere Richie was in that moment. Not a hint of teasing, or mocking. Not even a joke to cut through the rope that apparently pulled Eddie's shoulders together. Just _genuine_ interest in what Eddie wanted. Eddie turned in the chair, legs going over the side, and lifted a hand to Richie's face, cradling it as he leaned in for a kiss. Soft and sure, but not long. Cowardly as it was, he allowed himself to look down, at the wood grain of the chair, as he answered. "Just wanted to be close to you." Saying, really, 'I don't want you to leave the shower without me.'

Face softening, Richie took the hand on his face in his own, holding it there. "Ground rule #3," he said, slipping into it easily, "I won't get out of the shower until you tell me to."

A corner of Eddie's mouth twitched upward at that, but then his eyes drained of the light from before as he pictured it, just a flash of a moment. Eddie pressing Richie up against the cool tile of one corner, practically laying on him standing up, fists and wrists drawn together at the center of Richie's chest, and Richie holding him tight. Shivering. Pressing purple-mouthed kisses to each others lips. Waiting. Pressing. Proving. Eddie felt a whirl of apprehension in his abdomen. Would he really...? Would he ever really make it come to that?

"Um," he started softly. And Richie's other hand immediately stopped bracing himself on the bed, lifted to card through Eddie's hair again as he furrowed his brow, waiting for the shoe to drop. "For - communication's sake. I should tell you that I can see myself _pushing_ \- that." If Richie needed an explanation, he wasn't going to get one. Even saying what he already had felt like a punch to the gut, _and_ his pride.

Richie's mouth pursed, dent forming between his eyebrows as he processed, eyes blinking behind his lenses. Not that Eddie was paying any attention, eyes absently focused on the ground to their right.

"O-kay," Richie said a few silent moments later. His head cocked to the side. "So, in that case, ground rule #4, the second the water turns cold we _both_ get out _together_ and figure the rest of everything out then." Frankly, if Eddie was about to get caught up in some sort of cat-and-mouse will-you-actually-stay-if-I-say-so game, then Richie wasn't going to be worried about a couple of fucking erections...?

Suddenly everything felt so heavy again. And he knew he'd brought this on, himself, because what a jackass. Just a total moron. But also... this wasn't just from _one_ incident was it? Like, maybe not even two? How many times had he left Eddie without even...

Or was this about Eddie's dad? In a way? Somehow. Because he died when Eddie was so young? Left him all alone with his mother? ...Just. _When_?

"Eddie," Richie started to say. Although he very much doubted he was actually going to ask. Didn't really know what he was about to say.

But it didn't matter, because then Eddie looked back at him with these wide open eyes, "Really?" voice gruff, like he was trying to tame some kind of euphoria, or disbelief. It made Richie sick.

He squeezed at Eddie's hand, then tipped Eddie's head forward to press his lips to his forehead. _Christ_ he thought, the word thick on his tongue. It was like he'd broken Eddie's whole fucking system down. Or maybe, Eddie, himself had ruptured something, busted through some thin-skinned veil, when he decided not to be Little. Some. Weird supernova taking everything in from all of the individual spaces in Eddie's head, and mixing them into one roiling mass of a black hole. Open, emotional, easily awed... With all the ability to speak and _attempt_ to conceal. But not so much to reason, or offend.

Maybe that was a good thing... But mostly, Richie thought, it just sounded like a little of the most hurtful parts of both worlds.

"Yeah, really," he said, swallowing around each word.

Holy shit.

There had to be a rule somewhere that said how many times someone's eyes could water up in one night cause fuck this shit. Richie was over it. Over Eddie being unhappy, feeling unloved, or unwanted, or misunderstood. Whatever he was feeling. Left behind.

Whatever it would take. He could talk to Mr. Smith, maybe just... somehow take a 'break' from work? Just as school was starting up and they were finding their footing. Leave altogether for a while if he had to. It wasn't like he was on a specific number crunch, gotta have this many dollars by graduation. No, fuck it. He knew the point was to find their way around a realistic lifestyle, but if he had to prove first, that he was going to be there _whenever_ Eddie needed him to be, then fine. As long as it took for Eddie to feel secure enough in that to be able to move on from this _fear_ Richie had never really recognized before, then great. Fuck his job. Fuck his grades, even. What the fuck!

"Eds..." Richie's hand stopped moving through Eddie's hair, thumb falling instead to the corner of Eddie's mouth, stroking as he held Eddie's gaze. He looked uncomfortable with it, eyes darting down and back up like he wondered how long Richie was gonna keep looking at him like _that_. Richie swallowed, as he pulled Eddie's hand down from his face, still holding it, but bringing it to rest on his thigh.

"You _know_ I'm not gonna leave you. Today was... Today was stupid. So fucking stupid on my part. But I was just trying - I was just _trying_ to. Show you how _much_ the very fucking idea of not being with you _hurts_ me. I'm not going anywhere. Ever again. Ever. And I know you didn't get to test it, but I swear to you, on my life, if you had asked me to come over, I would've dropped everything -

Everything, and been there in a _second_. Because I love you, and it wouldn't have mattered what I was trying to prove. Or how petty and childish I was being. If you'd even - I. Didn't know. I thought. I thought you'd be sad, obviously, miss me, but I thought you'd get angry, too. Go find something else to do, right back. I didn't _know_ , baby. _I'm so sorry_..."

Richie didn't know if it was him or Eddie who was shaking, or both. But then he was looking up, as Eddie stood, rising from the chair to come stand in front of him, cupping Richie's face in his hands. "Richie," Eddie said. His hands found their way to either side of Eddie's waist.

"Hm?" Richie couldn't form words. Not with the way Eddie was looking down at him. Boring into him with deep, soulful eyes, and - no, it was definitely Richie who was shaking. Eddie was as sure as stone.

"I'm so fucking in love with you."

For a moment, Richie's chest ceased to rise, and then he was pressing his face to Eddie's sternum, hands sliding down to Eddie's thighs, grabbing and pulling. "Come here," he said, muffled, and low. Not sounding like himself at all. From what he could hear, anyway. Like an out of body experience. Eddie caught on fairly quick, as Richie scooted backwards, the back of his knees even with the edge of the bed, so that Eddie could safely knee up onto the bed, straddling Richie's hips, sitting in his lap.

From this position, Richie had to look up at Eddie, and he did, pulling away from Eddie's body to look him in the eye as he said, "I'm gonna get you your ring soon. It might be from a Cracker Jack box, or a fuckin' produce twisty-tie, but I'm gonna get you a ring to wear." Eddie smiled softly at that, forearms now resting on Richie's shoulders, hands clasped in the air behind Richie's head.

Sometimes, Eddie would admit to himself, it still sounded like some kind of joke. ' _Eddie. You're gonna marry me... right?_ ' Like someday everything was gonna fall perfectly in line and they were gonna find some church or something, get all dressed up. A walk down the aisle - for Richie, obviously, unless Stan was gonna give Eddie away, or something. Vows and I dos, and a reception afterward with all of their friends. A slow dance, and champagne flutes. Cake shoved into each other's face. Rice thrown as they drove away to a honeymoon on some beach. Cans clanging loudly behind them, while their friends waved at them frantically in the side view mirror.

But Richie still talked about it like it was the simplest thing in the world. 'Gonna marry me.' 'Gonna get you your ring.' ...Eddie really was in love with him. So fucking sweet. He wondered if any of their friends really knew. Knew what Richie was gonna be like when he got caught up in someone.

It certainly wasn't what _he'd_ expected.

He thought about the twist-tie ring, how dirty it'd get and probably unravel on the first day anyway. But he wanted to indulge Richie. Himself, too. If Richie was going to give him a ring, then, "I'll never take it off, Rich." And it almost sounded kind of dirty. This promise. Like fuck the world they lived in for letting them be together, but disallowing marriage. Well guess what, world, we're gonna do it _anyway_. Can't fucking stop us, cause Richie's getting me a ring.

Richie was still looking up at him, chin tilted into the air when he made a sound like he _finally_ remembered to breathe. "So fucking pretty, Eds... I swear someday I'm gonna look over at you, and that'll just be the fucking end of me. No more breathing. Just fucking gone."

Eddie's smile quirked up even more at that, and he moved a hand closer to Richie's face. Pressed his thumb up under Richie's jaw holding him steady while he pressed a kiss to his chin. Then across the opposite side of his face, along the shadows, and down below his ear. "But I have to say something, and I mean it."

"What?" Eddie asked, in between kissing down Richie's neck. Slow and steady, not skipping an inch of his skin as he made his way to Richie's collar, and maybe back up again if Richie talked too much.

"If someone better comes along, you take that ring off, Eddie."

Eddie furrowed his brow, looked straight at him, other hand pressing into Richie's neck marking where he left off. " _No_."

"It's just gonna be a symbol," Richie said, smooth as hell. Oddly so, considering what he was saying. To Eddie, anyway. He didn't understand why Richie was talking about it like it'd be okay if Eddie left him. "Me saying I know that I'm going to love you forever, and I will. You taking that ring off doesn't change anything. But if someone comes along who treats you better, or makes you happier. You have to promise me you'll be with them."

" _Rich_ , fucking stop," Eddie said, curling one hand into the back of Richie's head.

"Eddie," Richie said softly, sweetly even, and he pressed a kiss to Eddie's thinned lips. Almost on a laugh, he explained, "See, if you promise me that, then as long as you stay with me, I'll know it's because I'm making you happier than anyone else. Get it? It's for my own edification. Eddie-fication, if you will."

Eddie's brow twitched at that, a smile pouting out his lips even as part of him still felt like frowning. "Only if you promise the same thing," he said, serious, meaning it, but hovering on a laugh himself.

"Drop you like a rock," Richie promised, pressing into kiss Eddie's mouth. Draw it open slow, hand coming up Eddie's side, and to the center of his back, arching Eddie in.

Brow tightening, Eddie melted into the kiss, drowning in it, how at ease Richie was with it, sucking at him, drawing blood up to the surface, tongue tingling. Eddie whined, shamefully, when Richie pulled back, dotted his cheeks with a kiss, each. "I wanna get in the shower now; I wanna see you," Eddie said, hushed and hurried. Not really thinking.

Head tipping back, Richie barked out a short laugh, exasperated. "Fuck, Eds, you can't say shit like that." Like he wasn't the one who'd just been trying to meld into Eddie in the first place. Making them warm all over and dragging Eddie closer. But then it brought a dawning of realization on him, and his shoulders tensed up around his ears slightly as he let himself fall back onto the bed, Eddie still pressed into his thighs, and clenching at his waist with his knees. "Speaking of... finding someone who'll make you happy. If by some cruel twist of fate you find out you're not sexually attracted to me, can we still be ... just. Us, and you can find someone else to be your sexual partner or something? Because... I know that might only feel like a half a relationship but -"

Eddie, whose fingertips were lightly pressed to Richie's stomach above his waistband, snorted. Again, cute, Rich, but _no_. "It's not like I haven't seen you before, you dork."

"Well, yeah, I _know_ ," Richie said, bringing his hands to rest over Eddie's. "But not like _that_."

Smirking, Eddie shook his head. Jesus Christ... "Not to sound like a pervert, but it wasn't exactly like I could _help_ it."

"What?" Richie asked, bewildered. "When?" He was sitting up on his elbows, brow furrowed. "We haven't been naked in front of each other since we got together."

" _No_?" Eddie said, "How about all the other times _before_?" Was Richie acting oblivious on purpose or...? "You think I just never noticed you?"

"But." He took Eddie's hands from his middle, holding them to the bed at his own sides as he forced himself to sit up again. Still looking confused.

Slowly it started to piece together, and Eddie tilted his head to the side, "Did you... think I just started liking you this summer?" Richie's only answer was his burning cheeks. And Eddie didn't know whether to feel exasperated with or just completely endeared to him. "Is _that_ why you were so paranoid I'd get bored of you when we first got together? You, what, thought your feelings where just a novelty item for me? _Even though_ I told you I loved you. _And_ I was the first one to say it?"

"You were saying you were a terrible _friend_! You could've - there're different types of love, _Edward_. And anyway, I figured you. You probably - like it wasn't like I didn't know you had _some_ romantic feelings for me, you know, because you were flattered or... Besides, it was only at first! Obviously you developed those feelings for real, pretty fast. Luckily," Richie was saying, almost flippantly, as Eddie balked at him. Mouth slightly open, and one eyebrow arched upward.

"Richie, you dumb ass!" Eddie said, stopping him right there, because _what_? His hands were still trapped beneath Richie's or he would've bopped Richie's shoulders for being so stupid.

" _What_?" Richie asked, sounding offended, although his eyes were bright. Like he was getting the feeling that he'd been stupid in a way that meant he had more reason to be happy than before, so god bless this delayed gift of knowledge.

Shaking his head, Eddie felt his own cheeks burning. Second-hand embarrassment, he was sure of it. Or maybe latent guilt at never having explained to Richie how many years he'd been fucking _pining_ over him, all while trying and _failing_ to fool himself with denial. "I've only liked you since I was..." And Eddie realized then the even _he_ didn't know when it'd started. Not really. And spent so long denying it that everything was hazy around the edges. Unsure of when first came the impulse to kiss Richie, untangle his hair, stand arm to arm for no reason at all. "Jesus, Rich, since forever, maybe." And while it, very much, no longer felt like the point he was trying to make, Eddie huffed out, "So, yeah, I'd say you don't have to worry about me finding you unattractive."

Richie was smirking so hard, eyes so lit up, and face so bright that for a moment Eddie wondered if Richie didn't just lead him right into a trap of praise. He grew even more suspicious when Richie asked, cat got the cream, "So did you _fantasize_ about me? Wait, wait!" Richie said, almost flailing as he lifted his hands to brace Eddie's thighs, "Was I the first, ever, deposit in your spank bank? _Please_ tell me I was!"

And the fact that Richie hadn't made that joke back when they first got together? Reassured Eddie that no, Richie was just _oblivious_. Eddie rolled his eyes, fond and warm at having been able to give Richie validation. "Beep Beep, Richie Tozier." He leaned forward, met Richie's already puckering lips. "Can we go take our shower now?"

"Why? Cause you're a dirty, dirty boy? Lusting after sweet li'l ol' me all these years?"

"Yeah, idiot. That's why," Eddie said, smiling, then biting into his lower lip. Richie's happiness a shared infection at best. Downright metastasis at worst. "C'mon, Rich, shower," Eddie said, when Richie didn't immediately relent after, gently hitting Richie's wrist, where his forearm was still strung tight from gripping Eddie's thigh.

Richie moved his hands up and down Eddie's thighs, friction warming them. "Aw, no, Eds... Now that I know I'm fulfilling a kid's dreams here, we should make out a little. Give you some more coins for the ol' slot," he said, winking.

"Gross," Eddie muttered, shrugging his shoulders back. "Besides, getting in the shower with you is gonna be hard enough as it without making out beforehand."

" _Yeah_ it is," Richie said, raunchy, as his hands moved to Eddie's hips, and pulled him closer. "Admit it. If I started kissing you right now, you wouldn't want me to stop."

Eddie flushed at just the suggestion of their waists being aligned so tightly, even though his jeans, and Richie's both were stiff barriers preventing anything from really - happening. Just sitting still, anyway. Not to mention the truth of Richie's accusation. _God_ did Eddie want to. But... "Rich. I'm not -" He knew his cheeks had to be so red, and he couldn't even look Richie in the face anymore. Finding Richie's pillow a good place to stare, just past Richie's head.

"I know, baby. I'm just joshin' ya," Richie said more softly, drawing Eddie's eyes to his lips, and then closed, as he pressed their mouths gently together, warm and chaste. "Just like watching you get all flustered. Cute as hell."

Heart racing, Eddie pressed their mouths together again, fervent now, but still innocent. "So?" he prompted. Since, apparently, Richie was agreeing that they weren't ready yet.

Sucking in a breath, then letting it out, hot, through his nose, Richie visibly bit at his lower lip, and then, shimmying back, underneath Eddie's legs, he asked, "Can I just -" And pulled at up at the sides of Eddie's shirt. Eddie's face softened, despite the apprehension in his eyes. Why he found it so sweet that Richie wanted to take his shirt off, he didn't know. Maybe he was going crazy, with the love he had for Richie. Or maybe it was just the way Richie asked. Like it was some holy ritual he was asking to perform. The first time taking Eddie's shirt off for him - in this context, at least - even though they'd agreed not to do anything. Just the act of it being special all on its own.

Nodding, Eddie swallowed, then lifted his arms. Richie was practically vibrating with an energy, low-frequency, at being told yes. He began peeling Eddie's polo up, easing it off like lifting a bridal veil. Jesus Christ, their friends wouldn't believe it.

As he exposed Eddie's skin, the air hitting him along with the tension between them, rose little goosebumps up along his back, and his stomach twitched, fully revealed. And then it was faster, Richie's eyes focusing on what he was doing, rather than on Eddie's belly and chest. Getting his shirt out of his face and bringing it to lie on top of the bed with one hand. Eddie lowered his arms, feeling slightly self-conscious, tempted to fold them across his middle. _Silly_ , he told himself. There'd be no hiding in a few minutes anyway.

Richie brought his hands, almost reverential, to the gaps between Eddie's sides, and his arms, where Eddie's forced his hands to grab onto his own ankles. Another twitch, as Richie made contact, skin to skin. Sliding his hands up with care, studying Eddie. So focused. And Eddie let his eyes fall closed. Couldn't look into Richie's for reassurance anyway, so just let himself accept the touches, and revel in them instead.

"Eds?" Richie breathed out, at some point. Eddie'd lost track, with just Richie's thumbs on his front, hands curled around his sides, to his back, skimming along his skin. As if Richie'd never touched a body before. Treating him as delicate and awe-inspiring all at once.

Opening his eyes, just slightly, Eddie licked his lower lip, thinking he'd say yes to just about anything Richie asked in that moment. Almost hoping Richie would. Ask. Something huge. _Just do it; I fucking love you. Always fucking love you._ What difference would it make, now or later? If they were gonna be forever.

"Can I cheat?" Richie asked, hushed, finally pulling his gaze up to look at Eddie's half-slit eyes. "On rule #2. Just. Just for a second?" Eddie brought his lips together pressing them thin for just a moment, before nodding. Hell if he could remember what rule #2 was, but... Richie exhaled, warm breath fluttering over Eddie's stomach. "Sit up for me, baby, okay? On your knees."

Heat like warm melted wax was pooling lower and lower as Eddie blinked, and then did as requested. Unsure of where Richie was going with this. His mind wandering numbly to the idea of Richie pulling down his zipper, haze making his head spin, even as Richie braced his hips with two firm hands, holding him in place.

His eyes dropped closed again, a twinge in his tummy, a deep and loving ache running through him when it turned out that all Richie'd wanted to do was kiss along his waist band, slightly open kisses, but gentle and sweet nonetheless. _Below the bellybutton,_ Eddie's brain chimed in then. _Oh yeah..._ , he thought, swimming in a perfectly tepid lake of appreciation.

Eddie's hands eventually found purchase at Richie's elbows, as his glasses bumped along Eddie's stomach with every kiss. "Love you," Eddie found himself muttering, out of two lips that didn't feel like his own. Richie paused, pressing his forehead to Eddie's center, ghosting out another breath that went to the edge of Eddie's jeans and made him shiver.

One hand found it's way to Richie's head, and began carding gently into the tangled mess of curls there. "Love you," he said louder, impressing it upon Richie, spurring him. Despite the flush making it's way down Eddie's chest. And he knew he was going to feel foolish when he finally stepped out of his clothes, but it just felt so _good_. As soothing as it was provocative.

Richie continued his kissing streak, then, getting more fervent with it, hands gripping tighter at Eddie's waist, and thumbs stretching mindlessly to where Eddie's thighs met his pelvis. Making Eddie's head swim again. And then as he finished, all the way to the other side, as if in a fever, his hands came to Eddie's button, pulling it open.

Eddie gasped, eyes opening, quickly reaching to still Richie. Remind him. Slow him down. It was okay. "Richie, I _can't_ ," he said softly, earnestly. Conveying to Richie with his eyes that it was okay, the mistake. Eddie'd been there too. But just as Richie would've realized it was too much once Eddie's zipper came down in between his thumb and index finger, Eddie realized at the undoing of his button. _Too much_. "C'mon, baby. Let's just go take our shower. Okay?"

Falling into Eddie's stomach, glasses shoved up to one side of his face, Richie encircled his waist with his arms. "Sorry, sorry," he said, voice weak and strung out, as Eddie pet at his hair, stroking it lovingly. Placating.

"It's okay. I know..." Eddie told him. "No more cheating though," he said, trying to edge in on humorous. Clearly they couldn't handle it. Richie huffed out a laugh, and then pulled back enough so that Eddie could climb off of him.

Just enough of a break for Richie's mind to climb out of the molasses of the last few minutes and catch up. "Did you. Just."

"What?" Eddie asked, over his shoulder, as he folded his shirt onto the seat of the wooden desk chair.

"Did you just call _me_ 'baby'?"

Eddie froze, eyes widening slightly. "You - you. I shouldn't. You're right, that was weird of me. Sorry," he said quickly shaking his head in tiny little movements, fiddling with his shirt and messing it up all over again. Until Richie encased him in a hug from behind. Stilling Eddie's flurry with a gentle squeeze.

"No. It's just - different," Richie explained, kissing Eddie's bare shoulder. "To be honest, I almost didn't notice, considering..." He cleared his throat, not finishing his sentence.

A small little smile broke onto Eddie's face. He wasn't sure about it either. Kind of... liked being _Richie_ 's 'baby,' as it were. But. It was something gentle to call someone you loved, and. Well, he supposed he couldn't really help it if it slipped out from time to time. "You don't hate it," he asked, glancing back at Richie from the corner of his eye, checking.

"Fuck no," Richie said, rocking Eddie in his arms, then for a moment, before turning him and facing him toward the bedroom door. "Shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also still no shower, lol. I don't know... Next chapter. I swear!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel it's important to note that this chapter discusses dark/grave matters and is pretty angsty at first, possibly in general if you're anything like me. Basically, the boys talk about their mortality which is my personal least favorite subject in the whole world. But kind of why I needed this chapter. I don't know if you can find hope in this like me, and Richie and Eddie did, but I hope so ♥ If you fear otherwise, I absolutely advise and encourage you to skip reading this chapter.

"Just like at the quarry," Richie breathed, "No big deal." Since he'd given Eddie a head start, once they got into the bathroom, Eddie had pressed back up against the bathroom door once it closed, realizing his next step was to pull down his zipper, and get out of his pants and boxers.

Both of which could've been brushed to the floor in one swift motion. He'd let Richie reach into the shower to start the water warming. Only half-meeting Richie's eyes when his head came back into sight and Richie puffed up his chest with a deep breath in.

"Right," Eddie had said, tight. "You have a towel for me, right?" He wasn't gonna put his dirty clothes back on, afterward, and Richie'd pulled him from the bedroom before he could fully think straight again.

"Think there's a clean robe under the sink," Richie said, tilting his head toward the cupboards. Eddie was grateful that while he pulled the door open to check, Richie went ahead and began undressing, first setting his glasses on the counter.

With the robe he'd found placed on the sink, Eddie chewed at the inside of his lower lip before daring a glance in the mirror. Richie was already out of everything, and Eddie felt a groan well up in his chest before he swallowed it down. He watched, eyes unblinking, as Richie pushed the curtain aside and climbed in, letting it fall back into place. Presumably to give Eddie some privacy. At least until he felt brave enough to join him. He didn't move, though, until he heard Richie clear his throat. "Uh - 's it clean, Eds?"

Eddie forced his shoulders to drop, giving a small nod before answering with a short, "Mhm," before reaching for his zipper, "Thanks."

About to ask if Eddie'd changed his mind, Richie tilted his head back under the spray of water, muscles still tight even under the warmth, until he heard the sound of Eddie's pants hitting the floor. A victorious little smile curved his lips up his face before he squeezed shampoo into his palm. "Got my eyes closed so I don't get soap in 'em... If you're nervous, now's a good time to hop in. Promise."

The vinyl of the shower curtain was pressed to the side, swept out of the way just enough that Eddie could slide in, passed it, stepping over the side of the tub. As much as it meant to him that Richie was still being wary of Eddie being shy, he, himself, could not help but glance at Richie. At least. Get it over with, maybe. Remind himself Richie's body, actually, was quite familiar. Even so, he felt his cheeks heat up from more than just the steam bouncing off the shower floor and walls. And had to tear his gaze away as he shifted his feet and cupped his hands in front of himself.

Maybe this was stupid... That's what he was starting to think, again, as he looked up along the wall to where tile turned back into plaster. He was already getting harder than Richie'd made him before and on top of that he was supposed to spend enough time with Richie in the nude _and_ be productive by washing?

"Baby?" Eddie's eyes flashed down, eyebrows rising, slightly as he met Richie's eyes, and saw his boyfriend's face had also grown more red, hair straggly and wet, curtained around his face. Freshly rinsed of bubbles. "You good?" Richie asked, a smirk forming at the edges of his mouth. Eyes bright. Eddie flushed further, then pulled in a breath and upon releasing it, let his hands drop, relaxed to his sides.

"Fine."

"Why, yes you _are_. Fine as hell, _I'd_ say!"

At Richie's corresponding wink, Eddie rolled his eyes, but felt a small smile spark. "You... promise it'll be okay if I -"

"No. I'm gonna be super offended if the love of my life pops a boner for me," Richie said, making his voice deadpan as he stepped closer and took Eddie's cheek in his hand. "Baby," Richie added, softer, calling Eddie's eyes to meet his own. When they did, warm, dark brown, Richie felt his chest tighten. "Just relax, kay? Whatever happens, I won't tell, hm?" Then, he pecked the cheek he wasn't holding.

Swallowing, Eddie nodded and then took one final, steadying breath in. "Mind not hogging all the water, though?" he asked, forcing his tone to be cheeky.

Approving whole-heartedly of Eddie's attempt, Richie swept his arm out as he stepped to the side of the tub. "My liege," he said, waiting for Eddie to claim his new spot so Richie could take over the space at the back of the tub.

The water immediately began flattening Eddie's hair to his head, making it grow darker even in the already dim light making it beyond the shower rod, overhead. Within a moment, Eddie was reaching to pump shampoo into his own hand, but Richie's urge to do so was stronger, and he got his hand to the pump first, stepping up close behind Eddie. "Wait! Let - not babying you, I swear, but - let me?" he asked, as Eddie glanced back at him, questioning. Then his face softened and he nodded, though moved little else lest he back up, into the entirety of Richie's front.

"Be careful about my eyes though."

"Keep 'em closed, and we won't have to worry," Richie replied, lathering the wash up in his hands before lifting them to smooth over Eddie's hair, before digging his fingertips in. He scrubbed with much more (gentle) intent than he ever did with himself. Hoping that it would edge into a massage and help Eddie release the tension that was still left in his shoulders and back.

Seemed like it was working, too. Even Eddie felt himself begin to loosen up, dropping his shoulders back so Richie had even better control over how far the suds might slip down, over Eddie's face where he continued to face away. But Richie was quiet, and close, and... sweet. And suddenly Eddie felt his body going taut again, a thought dislodging. A thought similar to before... but maybe even worse? Eddie felt his eyes stinging before it even fully hit him, and Richie didn't seem to notice that Eddie'd stopped breathing. Just for a moment. The moment it took for the fear to break through his newly bandaged wound, for it to spill over.

He turned then, ignoring Richie's surprised gasp, and fingers tangling just for a second before slipping out from his hair, as he wrapped his arms tight around Richie's back and pressed his face, eyes still closed tight, into Richie's wet chest.

Richie stood there, hands up in the air, fingers all apart with bubbles dripping down in clumps to the shower floor, mouth ajar, hoping the right question would magically appear. "Eddie? Did... What -" He swallowed, and frowned, letting his hands fall grip Eddie right back.

"I'll miss you too much," Eddie told him, weakly. Not entirely certain he even wanted Richie to hear. To know what he was thinking. That Eddie was scared because he realized that maybe - no, not maybe, _someday_. Someday Richie wouldn't be able to do this for him.

Someday.

Someday made Eddie _sick_.

"Baby, wh - please tell me you know I'd never leave you?" Richie asked, voice strained. He lowered his head so that his chin and cheek pressed to the side of Eddie's head. "I'm too fucking obsessed with you to ever leave you alone," he tried, lilting his voice toward humor. Obsessed with. In love with. Either way.

Eddie's throat hurt as he swallowed thickly around a lump there. He shook his head into Richie's skin. Cause Richie didn't get it. ...Earlier, Eddie hadn't fully gotten it either. It wasn't _just_ about finding other people to make each other happier. Or about fights. Or about the fact that Eddie didn't even want to spend five fucking minutes apart from Richie, if he could help it. Jesus, it was so much more. _Too much_ more.

"But you will. You will, or I will. We all will... Everyone." Everyone leaves. No matter what you do.

"Oh..." Yeah, alright. Heavy stuff, Richie realized, as soon as it sunk in, just what Eddie meant, brow furrowed in thought. And Richie couldn't deny that Eddie was telling the truth. That was definitely the reality he was born into, too. But... Shit. "Okay, Eddie yeah. That's true, okay, in a way. But," Richie paused taking in a deep breath, racking his brain for help. Not only did he want to comfort Eddie, but now that he'd had a brick slammed through his heart, he'd rather avoid a freakout of his own. "Um," Richie stalled, nuzzling the side of his face into Eddie's, in place of running his hand through his hair. Since both hands were currently occupied in grasping at Eddie's back.

"Look, baby, I don't know what you believe in... But science," Richie started, finally finding a thread he could follow. Throwing out a mental _Eureka!_ Richie continued, "Science says that energy can't be destroyed, right? So if you believe we all carry an energy with us until - you know - then our energy doesn't cease to exist. Like, ever, _for_ ever. You know? Our individual energies will never stop existing.

We'll still _be_ , and I promise you that if I have _any_ control over the matter, my energy will stick to yours like glue. Or maybe they'll even fuse, or... or something." Then Richie added, just slightly less confident, despite the build-up. "Right? I - you can't argue with science, Eds." Can you? God, he fucking hoped Eddie couldn't.

Biting into his lower lip, Eddie brushed his nose over the warmth of Richie's peck, holding tight, still, but feeling the dark cloud fade just a little. He offered a shrug, with the little energy regained, and hoped and prayed Richie had more. 

Richie took in a slightly ragged breath through his nose before pulling back enough to see Eddie still had his eyes closed. He frowned a little, again, but understood; Eddie was probably still worried about soap in his eyes. Richie knew it wouldn't help, but he carefully brushed the hair back off of Eddie's forehead, and moved them under the spray a little more, cradling Eddie in his arms so that maybe the rest of the shampoo could rinse away. So if Eddie _did_ decide to look at him, it wouldn't hurt.

While he watched the water seep into Eddie's scalp, he continued to think. To try and figure out what would make things right for them both. The most right they could be, anyway. Other than reanimation, which, frankly, at the moment, Richie was in no way opposed to. But he supposed he would have heard about it if someone actually managed that feat, yet.

Running one hand over the small of Eddie's back, Richie pressed his lips to the side of Eddie's head and then settled in again, so his words went right into Eddie's ear. "You know what else we could do? And I'm not really taking no for an answer, by the way - we could be buried together, Eds." The second Richie said it, he felt relief come to his own mind. Yeah, fuck it, he thought, that could work. "So even if our energies aren't like, perfectly preserved together, our bodies will chill out together for as long as fucking Earth is around. _And_!"

Eddie's eyebrows drew a little tighter at Richie's sudden exclamation, clearly picking up on an idea he thought would be fun. Or funny. Maybe both. But while his brow furrowed in curiosity, his lips twitched up slightly. And while he waited with baited breath to see what ridiculous thought had crept up on Richie, now, he started to let the feeling of reassurance wash over him. Realizing that, actually, the idea of them being buried together, as morbid as that thought might be, _did_ make him feel lighter. And, truthfully a little dizzy with how much of a difference it was beginning to make. Along with the circular motions of Richie's hand, and having him solid and close and even so invested, already, in the plans he was scheming for their ...departure.

"Say our energies still kinda stick to the bones, even in remnants or whatever - we'll be the fucking life of the graveyard, Spaghetti! You and me: throwing block parties, coming up with the best jokes of all time, doing stand up for everyone around us. You, bragging about the undoubtedly hot skeleton you've got under that skin of yours. And Halloween? The one night a year we can really get up and boogie? You better believe we're hardcore making out." Richie smiled, wide and bright, when that got a snort out of Eddie, who then pulled his hands back to his face, and tilted his head back to wipe any remaining soap away.

Continuing on, Richie added, "I mean, can you imagine how intense it'll be when we don't have to worry about breathing? In fact... _shit_ , I wonder if the same principle can be applied to sucking ghost dick..." He finished on a smirk, glowing after finally having Eddie's eyes on him, no longer sad, but a mixture of amused and incredulous.

"We haven't even sucked human dick and you're talking about sucking ghost dick? Jesus, Rich." Eddie shook his head but the flush on his cheeks said he wasn't nearly as opposed to the idea as he was making out.

Running his hands up Eddie's back one final time, Richie landed them upon Eddie's shoulders, grasped him there gently, then turned him around before grabbing a bar of soap to run over Eddie's skin. "Priorities! You have. To have. Priorities. I'm planning for our future, Eddie... This is important. Are you saying you _wouldn't_ suck my ghost cock, Eds? Cause... I'd totally suck yours. Every day, if I could."

Eddie smiled to himself, arching his back into the Richie's touches, and turned his head to look back at Richie over his shoulder as he rolled his eyes and sighed out a, "No. Of course I would..."

Beaming, Richie leaned forward and pecked Eddie's cheekbone. "Thanks, baby." Eddie shook his head, but he was smiling as he turned his face back toward the shower-head wall. "Besides, you wouldn't wanna miss out on that delicious ectoplasm cum, now would ya?" He asked this as he stepped up closer, behind Eddie, dangerously close to aligning their bodies, as he swept the bar of soap around Eddie's side, to brush over his upper abdomen. Eddie's stomach muscles could be felt tensing at the sudden movement.

Then, Eddie released a huge breath, a high-pitched, " _Ecto_ -? Richie, _ew_! Don't be gross."

"Yeah, ectoplasm cum. What, you didn't see that episode of _Tales From the Crypt_? Trust me, sweetheart. You say 'ew' now, but I bet you're an ectoplasm cumslut, Eddie Kaspbrak. You'll see."

"I'll see. _Sure_..." Eddie huffed, pursing his lips to avoid smiling. He didn't even want to _think_ about it because in his current state, it was likely his brain would readily agree, at just the thought of Richie's dick, ghost or flesh. And he didn't want to give Richie that satisfaction. Not to mention, it could be cause for some very strange dreams...

"I'm serious, cutiepie. Halloween's gonna be your favorite fuckin' day of the year in a century or two." It was definitely gonna be Richie's. "And hell, that's only _if_ we can't, for some reason, get it on as ghosts in our own plot. I mean honestly, Halloween is probably worst case scenario. Wouldn't make any sense that we couldn't move around, at the very least, in our own _hole_. Like, there can't be a rule against _that_!" If there was, Richie would have a complaint straight off the bat. Take a number to get that shit amended as soon as possible.

He continued to run the soap over the 'safe' areas of Eddie's body, pressing a kiss to the top knob of Eddie's spine, and into the nape of his neck as he finished making his point, "So... see? Eds, it's gonna be you and me. No matter what. The first thing we do, after we save up for like - let's say at least 10% of a down payment on a house, just to get us started - we'll immediately save up for plots together. We'll even get our cheesy-ass markers set up, saying how fucking disgustingly in love with each other we are. And, you know, of course, the request to R.S.V.P. to our underground raves. All the good shit; we'll get it done. And then, even if we _do_ find someone else, like you know you promised, if someone makes you happier, well guess fucking what? I still get you in the after life, babe. No take-backs."

Despite himself, and how ludicrous it sounded... Eddie's chest puffed up, warm, at that notion. The idea that they'd be committing, permanently, to an eternity together, even if... during their life time they for some reason split apart. He swallowed thickly, body threatening to turn around into Richie, hold him close again. This time out of happiness. But he stood his ground, and stilled Richie's hand under his own, slipping the soap from between Richie's fingers, and said in soft, but firm agreement, "No take-backs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This part is finally done. (Idk they kiss and go cuddle in bed and boners aren't a problem cause they're mostly too glad to be alive and with each other and in love, hooray.
> 
> Man I know this chapter has a lot of dialogue and is super poorly written, but I just can't be bothered to care right now. Writing, lately, has been like ripping off nails...


End file.
